


Newt Has Hannibal Wrapped Around His Finger

by DarkMoonMaiden



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Newt gets sick, So Hermann orders his boyfriend to take care of him, because seriously he has more important things to deal with
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-22
Updated: 2013-08-22
Packaged: 2017-12-24 08:27:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/937799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkMoonMaiden/pseuds/DarkMoonMaiden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newt gets sick and finds out that Hannibal Chau--kaiju dealer, crime lord and general badass--has some major maternal instincts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Newt Has Hannibal Wrapped Around His Finger

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of a prompt that someone sent me on my tumblr (from like a week ago woops)

Newton leaned away from the kaiju innards to sneeze harshly for the tenth time in the past five minutes, groaning loudly when it hurt is already aching head.

Hermann huffed angrily, slamming his hand on the chalkboard and whipping around. “For God’s sake, just go down to medical already!” he snapped at his lab partner.

Newt looked up and glared at him with puffy eyes. “’M fine!” he said in a nasally voice, flapping a slimy hand at him. Hermann let out an indignant yelp when a clump of blue goo went flying onto his side of his lab. “I just need some Advil and I’ll be a-okay.”

“You’re going to end up ruining your _samples_ if you keep putting your contaminated fingers in them,” Hermann hissed, jabbing his cane into Newt’s arm for emphasis.

“I am not, so quit busting my balls!” Newt whined. He widely gestured around the mask. “That’s what this is for. And the gloves. Do you really think I’m stupid enough to contaminate my babies?”

“You’re ignorant enough to forget to eat and sleep for days, so yes, I believe you are,” Hermann growled, grabbing Newt’s shoulder and pushing him back into the chair. “Go to your room, and don’t come back out until whatever you have is well out of your system.”

“No,” Newt said stubbornly, pushing Hermann’s hand off of his shoulder.

Hermann let out a tight breath. “If you don’t hurry up and listen to me, I’m calling your boyfriend.”

Newt snorted, the action making him wince. “As if you’d willingly call Hannibal,” he sneered. “You don’t even like being in the same room as him.”

Hermann snarled and stormed off. Newt, figuring that he had won the argument, smirked victoriously before continuing with his work.

***

Hannibal signed off on the papers his second-in-command handed him as his phone buzzed in his pocket. He held up a finger to one of his men who was trying to talk to him, pulling out the cellphone. He arched an eyebrow at the number. Why was he calling Hannibal?

“Gottlieb,” Hannibal said sharply.

“ _I swear on all that is holy, Chau, if you don’t come down here and get your boyfriend out of this lab I will inflict bodily harm_ ,” the mathematician spat into the receiver, not bothering with pleasantries or the usual banter the two shared.

Hannibal sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What’d he do now?”

“ _He’s sick with a temperature of 102.9 degrees_ —“

“ _When the hell did you take my temperature_?” Newt yelled in the background.

“— _and refuses to return to his room or see a doctor_ ,” Hermann finished scathingly. “ _I suggest you send someone to deal with him before he passes out from exhaustion._ ”

“ _I’m not going to pass out, you theoretical dickwad!”_

 _“You can’t even stand up without falling over_!”

“Alright, alright,” Hannibal broke in, stopping their arguing. He knew from experience that if he didn’t stop them now, the two scientists would fight for hours. “I’ll be there soon.” He quickly muttered to one of his people that he was going home for the night and that he’d be available in an hour for emergencies only.

“ _Good_.”

There was a fumbling and the sound of Hermann cursing, and then Newt’s nasally voice was speaking. “ _Hannibal, you really don’t have to do that_ ,” he rushed to say. “ _I’m not that sick. Hermann’s exaggerating_.” He ignored Hermann’s crisp denial.

“Shut up, kid,” Hannibal said, exiting the shop. “You’re just sayin’ that because you wanna play with kaiju guts a little bit longer.” One of his men opened the sleek car door for him, shutting it after the crime lord sat down.

“ _No, really_ ,” Newt protested. “ _It’s a virus that’s been going around, a couple of the engineers have it, too, and it’ll go away in a few days. No biggie, it’s more of an annoyance than anything else. Y’know, with the dizziness and the hard to concentrate-ness. I know you have a huge kaiju empire to run and all_ —“

“Newt.” The scientist halted his rambling. “I’m coming to pick you up. Tell Hansen that you’re spending the next few days with me until you feel better. Got it?”

There was a beat of silence. “ _Alright_ ,” Newt mumbled dejectedly. “ _But you get to deal with Herc’s bitching_.”

“I always do,” Hannibal said in amusement.

When he passed the gates and reached the Shatterdome’s entrance, Herc Hansen and a few guards were waiting for him, as was expected. The car slowed to the stop a few feet away from them, and Hannibal smoothly exited the vehicle, the driver doing the same.

“Marshall Hansen,” Hannibal said coolly as he approached the other man.

“Mr. Chau,” Herc greeted tersely. “How’s business?”

Hannibal gave him a feral grin. “Exceptional,” he purred. “The less kaiju parts, the more expensive they are.” Herc grunted in response, turning as the door opened.

Newt came out, and damn was he looking rough. He was haggard, nose red and face pale. He was bundled up in a thick coat to combat the crisp, evening air, and was being escorted by a worried Tendo. The technician wrapped an ugly, mauve scarf around Newt’s neck, which made Hannibal make a low growl of disapproval, and was speaking in a low voice to him.

“For the millionth time, I’m _fine_ ,” Newt said with no real malice, pushing Tendo’s hands away. “Seriously. Chill.”

Tendo rolled his eyes and nudged the scientist forwards, toward the waiting car and Hannibal. He chucked his chin in greeting to Hannibal, who returned the gesture with his usual impassiveness. Newt stumbled forward, steadying himself on Hannibal’s driver and then trying to play it off cool. He gave his boyfriend a weak, but happy, smile.

“It’s just the flu,” Tendo offered. “It’s been going the ‘dome. Make sure he drinks a lot, gets some food—“

“Jesus, I’m sick, we get it,” Newt groaned loudly, and Tendo chuckled fondly.

“We expect him back in one piece in two days,” Hansen said shortly while Newt clambered into the car, ignoring the lighthearted attitude . “And I don’t want to find out that you’ve been extorting him for classified information or any—“

“What am I, six?” Newt’s muffled voice said. “I can freaking handle a cold!” Hansen’s eyes narrowed and Hannibal grinned widely.

“Am I free to go now?” Hannibal asked innocently.

“Back in one piece,” Hansen emphasized before allowing them to leave.

The first thing Hannibal did when he sat in the car was to unwrap Tendo’s scarf from Newt’s neck, throwing it carelessly to the ground. Now that he was close to him, he appraised Newt again, taking in the pale, sweaty skin and blood shot eyes. He was shivering hard enough that his teeth were chattering, even though he was still bundled in his worn coat.

“You always have to be a handful, don’t you, kid?” Hannibal asked irritably, shifting so he could press Newt into his side.

“Uh huh,” Newt agreed without a fight. “But you should probably stay away from me. I’m probably contagious.”

“I survived being eaten by a kaiju baby. A cold doesn’t scare me.”

“Touché.”

Newt coughed repeatedly, covering his mouth with his hands and leaning forward. Hannibal automatically started running a (surprisingly) comforting hand over his back, soothing him. He made a quiet hush, moving to grip the back of Newt’s neck and give it a soft squeeze, thumb stroking slowly as the coughing came to a stop.

Newt sat back up weakly, and Hannibal kept his hand where it was. Even in his weakened state, Newt was able to give him an incredulous stare. “Oh my god,” he rasped out. “You have maternal instincts.”

“Fuck you, too.”

“I bet you love kids. You probably have all these dreams about having, like, four kids and cuddling them and—“

“Just because we’re fucking doesn’t mean I won’t beat your ass black and blue,” Hannibal threatened.

“I didn’t know you were into that kind of stuff. Can that wait until I don’t feel like I’m going to faint?”

Hannibal fixed him with a glare, tightening his grip. Newt whined in pain when his sore throat was irritated, and the pressure was immediately gone. “Sorry,” Hannibal said shortly.

Newt shifted. “’S fine,” he said, swallowing thickly. “But, uh, you can put your hand back. It felt nice.” Hannibal’s face softened minutely, and he wrapped his hand back around the nape of Newt’s neck, gently massaging it.

The car halted, and the driver rushed around to open the door for them. Hannibal didn’t spare him a glance as he helped the wobbling Newt into the building, passing guards who nodded respectively. The stairs were a hassle, but eventually Hannibal and Newt were in the large apartment.

Newt landed heavily on the expensive couch, shivering heavily and bringing his knees to his chest. The two men who were sitting at the kitchen table immediately stood up.

“You’re both free for the night,” Hannibal told them, chucking his head at the door. He was thanked and the two hastened to put on their shoes and leave the apartment before their boss could say anything else.

“Fuck, it’s cold in here,” Newt complained as Hannibal slipped off his expensive red jacket and golden shoes. “Is it cold in here? Or hot? No, no; it’s cold.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Hannibal muttered as he rolled up his sleeves, turning up the heat before going into the other room in search of a blanket.

When he came back, Newt was struggling to take of his shoes, using clumsy fingers and muttering angrily to himself. Hannibal observed the pathetic scene before his patience snapped and he strode forward.

“You’re pitiful,” Hannibal said bluntly as he crouched and took off Newt’s shoes for him.

“I know,” Newt coughed, slowly taking off his coat. He straightened his glasses and gave Hannibal an impish, sickly grin. “Take care of me?”

Hannibal shoved his chest in response, standing up and moving to the kitchen, putting a mug of water into the microwave for tea. Leaning against the counter, he listened closely to Newt hack up a lung in the living room, the scientist gasping for breath afterwards like a dying man. And damn it, if that sound didn’t make some part of Hannibal—a part that he had assumed died years ago, when he first got into this business—run over there and hold Newton until he felt better.

 _Fuck. He’s right._ Hannibal _was_ acting like a mother hen. This realization worried him; sure, none of his men would dare say anything about it—hell, he’d caught his second in command and a few men giving them happy, understanding looks—but that didn’t mean his enemies wouldn’t. He’d have to start toughening up, not showing as much attention to Newt in public—

“Make sure it’s Earl Grey?” Newt warbled from the couch.

“’Course,” Hannibal called back, reaching in the back of the cupboard for the box of teabags.

“Thanks, Mommy Hannibal.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

The embarrassed response earned a wheezing laugh, which turned into another coughing fit. Newt couldn’t catch his breath, desperately gasping for air. “Gonna—puke—“ he managed to say, gagging.

Hannibal scrabbled to the kitchen, snatching the trashcan and racing back. Newt snatched it and started dry heaving over the bin in between coughing wetly.  Uncertain of what to do, Hannibal put one knee on the couch so he could hover over Newt.

Newt heavily dropped his head onto the rim of the trashcan, breathing deeply. “False alarm,” he mumbled, leaning to the side so he could rest his shoulder on Hannibal’s chest.

Hannibal automatically wrapped his muscular arms around his boyfriend, putting the trash bin on the ground. He tried to searching for any words that could soothe Newt, but his brain was drawing a complete blank. So, instead of speaking, he chose to pepper soft kisses across Newt’s face, tilting it up with a finger under his chin. When he tried to kiss his lips, Newt made a disgusted sound and moved away.

“Dude, I _just_ almost puked,” Newt objected in a whisper. “And you are _asking_ to get sick.”

“I really don’t care, kid.” Newt grumbled something about how ridiculous it was for a crime lord to have no survival instincts before the microwave beeped angrily, ready for Hannibal to go get it.

Carrying the mug of tea, Hannibal went back into the living room. “Let’s get you into bed,” Hannibal said. “I have some work to do, and you need sleep.” Newt nodded and stood up, following him blindly into the master bedroom.

Newt stripped down to his boxers, muttering something about how constricting it was to sleep in clothes when you were sick before burrowing under the fluffy white comforter. He stacked two of the pillows for him to lean back on before accepting the tea, humming in pleasure as it soothed his throat.

“Can you get me some Advil, too?” Newt asked, and Hannibal quickly grabbed the pill bottle from the bathroom and sat next to his boyfriend on the bed, shaking out three of the pills.

“Anything else?” the crime lord asked, kissing Newt’s temple tenderly.

Before Newt could answer, Hannibal’s phone started buzzing. Growling at the interruption, he pulled it out of his pocket and let out a tight breath when the name of an important client popped up.

“I gotta take this,” he said, giving Newt another kiss. “Shout if you need somethin’, I’ll be just in the living room.”

Newt gave him a small, shy smile. “Thanks for doing this, Hannibal.”

Hannibal grinned lopsidedly. “Get some rest, kid,” he said softly. He turned off the overhead light and closed the door.

The grin slid off his face as he answered the phone, going straight into business mode. He settled onto the couch with his tablet, coldly arguing over prices and saying that if the other didn’t shut up he was going to end up a eunuch for the rest of his life. Even when the arguments got heated, he made sure to keep his voice low so as not to disturb Newt.

A few hours passed before Hannibal heard a door creaking open and the shuffling of feet. He looked up to see Newt walking in with the white comforter wrapped around him, looking no better than he had when he was picked up from the Shatterdome.

“What’s wrong?” Hannibal asked, stopping his rapid tapping on the tablet as Newt stood in front of him.

“Can’t sleep,” Newt uttered, joining his boyfriend on the couch. He situated the blanket around him before he shoved Hannibal’s arm up so he could put his head on Hannibal’s thigh. “You can keep working. I just want to be around you.”

Hannibal stared at him in confusion, watching the scientist close his eyes and try to sleep, coughing occasionally. Eventually, the tension and stiffness seeped out of him and he was able to relax into the cushions, fingers carding through Newt’s sweaty hair as he read through a report on his tablet. They both basked in the silence and comfort of each other.

“I like it when you’re quiet. You should get sick more often.”

“I’m trying to sleep, Mamma Hannibal. Isn’t it important for me to get lots of rest?”

“Watch it, Geiszler.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you want me to write anything, just send me a message on my tumblr: darkmoonmaiden.tumblr.com  
> I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
